


Big Kumquat, Big Luck

by wizened_cynic



Category: Gilmore Girls, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alex in Stars Hollow, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Chinese New Year, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizened_cynic/pseuds/wizened_cynic
Summary: Stars Hollows does Chinese New Year.





	Big Kumquat, Big Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic for Chinese New Year in 2007, a whopping 12 years ago. Originally posted on my livejournal, it has taken me a full zodiac cycle to come around to posting it on AO3. Happy Year of the Pig (again) to everyone!

One of these days Alex is going to make a run for it. 

These thoughts don't come often. She is mostly pleased with her present living situation; on most days she can bring herself to enjoy the coziness of living in a small town, and she definitely has no complaints about waking up in the morning with Lorelai's head between her legs, though admittedly it had been a shock the first few times. "I just wanted to see if you were a deep sleeper," Lorelai said, and Alex said, irritably, "Am I?" and Lorelai said, "Judging by how you almost kicked me in the head? No." 

But then there are days like these. Not days, per se, but meetings. 

Being Stars Hollow Honorary Assistant Town Selectman pretty much kills any desire Alex has for going into politics.

She's had interviews with inmates at Sing Sing that are less aggravating than the town meetings held by Taylor. Unfortunately, as S.H.H.A.T.S. (do not pronounce it "shats"), she has no choice but to attend every single one. The alternative is to relocate to Nebraska, under a new identity, but even then she's certain Taylor will find her, and she will not enjoy it. 

Alex usually divides the duty of tempering Taylor's histrionics with Miss Patty, but Miss Patty has gone to visit one of her ex-husbands, so Alex is in charge of overseeing the plans for the First Annual Stars Hollow Chinese New Year Celebration, which is to say that she is in charge of convincing Taylor celebrating Chinese New Year will not lead to a sudden infiltration of Stars Hollow by the Red Chinese. 

"I don't even think they call them Red Chinese anymore," she tells Taylor. 

"All I'm saying is that this is a big mistake," Taylor says, but he is shot down when Rabbi Barans points out that they have a Purim festival every year, and Gypsy asks if Taylor is racist, and someone from Taylor's ninth-grade world history class claims that Taylor is racist, and Taylor, having been reduced to the brink of tears, argues vehemently that he is not racist and if the town wants to light fire crackers and dress up as dragons and hang up life-sized posters of Chairman Mao, so be it. 

Alex considers it a successful meeting.

 

*

 

"Home!" she yells as she flops down onto the sofa. 

"Marco!" yells Lorelai.

Alex buries her face into a cushion. "What?"

"You're supposed to say 'Polo,' and then I have to guess where you are."

"I'm in the living room. Where else could I be?"

"Okay, fine, then guess where I am."

"You're in the kitchen. Lorelai, I can see you from here."

"Arggh!" Lorelai says in disgust. "You're no fun."

Alex lowers the cushion and looks in Lorelai's direction. She has her back to Alex, and she's crouched in front of the stove, which is dangerous, very, very dangerous. For both Lorelai and the stove. 

"You're not cooking, are you?" Alex asks suspiciously. The oven is for storing shoes. It is one of the few things they agree on. 

"I'm worshiping the Kitchen God."

I'm not going to ask, Alex thinks. I'm not going to ask I'm not going to ask I'm not going to ask. 

She asks, "The who and the what now?"

"The Kitchen God. According to Chinese custom, in preparation for Chinese New Year, we have to provide offerings to the Kitchen God, so that . . . I don't really know, but we've got to do it."

If there is one person who's an avid supporter of the town's Chinese New Year celebration, it's Lorelai. Lorelai's been on a Chinese New Year kick ever since she discovered that the Chinese have the custom of keeping a tray of various sweets during the lunar new year. Lorelai adopted that tradition immediately, even after Alex reminded her that they were not, in fact, Chinese.

"Yes, but Chinese New Year is a state of mind," she countered. "As long as you have Chinese New Year in your heart, you can celebrate it, regardless of race, gender, and sexual orientation."

"I'm sure the Chinese community is thrilled that their most important festival of the year is being usurped by Anglo-Saxon lesbians."

"What Chinese community? This is Stars Hollow, Claire. The dimsum here is served with salsa and sour cream, which is precisely why we have to start honoring the traditional customs. So that Craig and Ashley's little girl will be able to grow up knowing her heritage."

Craig and Ashley are two upstanding citizens of Stars Hollow who have recently adopted a baby girl from China. Foreign adoptions is not anything new; from what Lorelai tells her, Alex has gathered that any self-respecting celebrity who craves media attention is adopting internationally these days, but little Shoshana Schulstein is Stars Hollow's first international adoptee, and the town is determined to make her feel welcome, even if she is only fifteen months old and will probably nap through the entire event. 

Lorelai has decided that it is her sworn duty to make Chinese New Year the next big thing. Maybe not as big as the Revolutionary War re-enactment, but definitely bigger than the Groundhog Day Hog-Watching Galapalooza, which is why, the next time Emily calls, Alex is going to have to inform her that Lorelai has become a pagan. 

"What exactly are you offering the Kitchen God?" Alex asks. She should go in there and check that it isn't anything flammable. Or explosive.

"Two Pop Tarts and half a can of Pringles."

"Because that's so traditional."

"Well, I'm thinking the Kitchen God would expect something a little different from us Anglo-Saxon lesbians." 

"Wait, are those my Pringles?" 

"The Kitchen God thanks you and says he will make the Year of the Pig a very prosperous one for you." 

Alex was saving those potato chips for a stressful day, so that Kitchen God had better damn well appreciate. 

 

*

That is not the end of it. There is never "an end of it."

The following day, Alex returns from work and finds the sofa shoved aside to make room for a short, stubby plant. 

"Lorelai!" she hollers. They don't have a good track record with plants. In fact, just by having a plant in their living room means they are probably violating several court orders. "What the hell is this?" 

Lorelai peers from the stair railing. "It's a kumquat plant."

"What is a kumquat plant doing in our house?" Sometimes it feels like all Alex ever does is ask Lorelai this question. Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Clearly, Einstein has never had to deal with Lorelai Gilmore. 

"It's supposed to bring us good luck and good fortune." 

"Can it bring us good luck and good fortune without getting in the way of the TV?"

"The fung shui master said to put it there."

Lorelai descends into the living room, dressed in a red silk dress that hugs her body in all the right places.

Alex stares.

She can't help it; humans are drawn to the color red.

And breasts.

Did she just say breasts in her head? Since when did Alex start talking to herself? 

Lorelai is still there. In that dress. 

And Alex is still staring.

Lorelai takes slow, careful steps toward her, the material of the dress swishing back and forth along her legs as she walks. She's studying Alex with that half-bashful, half-smug expression that Alex absolutely hates, because it means she will be wearing a scarf the next day to hide the hickeys on her neck, and even then, the entire town will know. 

"You're pink," Lorelai chortles. They're the same height, and she's standing so close, her forehead is almost touching Alex's. 

"It's carbon monoxide poisoning," Alex tells her.

"You think I look hot."

"Red agrees with you, I'll admit that."

"You want to do dirty things to me," Lorelai sings, and Alex is about to protest and explain that she most certainly does not and that Lorelai is completely encouraging the fetishization of minority women, but then Lorelai closes the distance between them with her lips and the words are lost. 

The kumquat plant is where the sofa should have been, so they end up toppling onto the floor. The floorboards are cold and hard, the silk dress impossible to unbutton, and it's just a matter of time before one of them pulls too hard and the other jerks her arm and the plant is knocked over, the ceramic pot shattering into pieces with a loud crack. 

"That's not bad luck, is it?" Alex asks.

"Hell would I know," Lorelai says, and unhooks Alex's bra with her teeth.

 

*

"This is not how the Chinese celebrate their new year."

Granted, Alex has never asked Huang about it, but she's fairly certain lesbian sex in the living room beside a kumquat plant and under the watchful eyes of a giant stuffed Hello Kitty --- which isn't even Chinese --- is not a traditionally-accepted practice. 

"We need to improvise," Lorelai says. "We need to add our own touch of whatever to make the tradition ours." 

"Like replacing the candied lotus seeds in the candy tray with peanut M & Ms?"

Lorelai grins and strokes the rumple of consternation on Alex's forehead. "Exactly. You're catching on."

Alex could live with that. 

Yes, she thinks, as Lorelai lapses into another dramatic monologue about family reunion dinners or dragon dances or whatever else she's read in Chinese New Year's for Dummies. She could very well live with this.


End file.
